


Rise to the Occasion

by Archaeopteryx



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftercare, Dom Drop, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Fixation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prompt Fill, Sub Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, first-time dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24298219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaeopteryx/pseuds/Archaeopteryx
Summary: "I will not raise a hand to you," Dedue said. "I will not cause you pain, not even if you ask me for it. I will not speak to you unkindly. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or unhappy, you will let me know. If you can accept that, then I … can try."Dimitri grinned, flashing a sliver of chipped tooth. “Don’t sell yourself short, my love. You’re quite good at bossing me around when it’s for my own good.”Dimitri asks Dedue to take charge for the night.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 10
Kudos: 152





	Rise to the Occasion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an FE3H Light Kinkmeme [prompt](https://fe3h-kinkmeme-light.dreamwidth.org/452.html?thread=53956#cmt53956):
>
>> Would love to see some post-canon established relationship dimidue where dimitri asks dedue to take control in bed. Can be any position, any act, just as long as dedue is in charge or ordering dimitri around for the first time and they’re both really into it. Pluses for bondage and edging/orgasm control.

" … I'm not sure I can do what you ask of me," Dedue said.

Dimitri sniffed, his brow furrowing. "What is it you think I'm asking for? I only want you to take charge for a while. I know you're capable of that."

Dedue shook his head. "It cannot be that simple. What should I do with that charge? What do you want from this?"

"I want you to do as you like. That is the meaning of ‘taking charge’,” Dimitri said. The corner of his mouth ticked up. "Tie my hands, or … whatever you wish. I'll accept it.”

"Why do you want this?" Dedue demanded, an edge of panic creeping into his voice. Dark thoughts swirled at the edges of his mind — striking Dimitri, or strangling him, or taking a blade to his remaining eye — visions of the dull suffering he'd witnessed before, as Dimitri invited pain and drove himself further still onto the spear of his own limitations — Dedue could not always stop him, but he would not make himself complicit.

Dimitri's hands closed on his — dry, dusty calluses, warm palms and cool fingers, drawing him back down. "I want this because I — because I am tired. There is this noise in my head, this — clamor about what I deserve, what I do not … let me be free of it, even for a little while."

“What you deserve,” Dedue echoed. Dimitri’s gaze flickered — plainly he hadn’t wanted Dedue to isolate that particular phrase. Dedue scowled. “And what do you deserve?"

Dimitri opened his mouth, then seemed to choke, eyes darting. Dedue raised two fingers and tipped his chin up.

"How do you believe I will treat you?"

Dimitri pressed his lips together. His throat bobbed when he opened his mouth again. "Gently," he whispered, "and with care."

Dedue relaxed. His spine unwound, and he turned his hand to cradle Dimitri's cheek. "I can do that," he said, his voice hushed to match Dimitri's own.

"You always have. Even when I've preferred you wouldn't." Dimitri leaned into Dedue's hand. His eyes fluttered shut. "That is why I can ask this of you. Because I trust you, as I have trusted no other in my life. Because of all the doubt I have ever known, I have never once doubted you."

Dedue began to understand.

There was his Dimitri, weary and hard-worn, battered by countless breaks and repairs, and so threadbare that at times the daylight shone through him; and still, somehow, bearing a nation. Dedue knew that weight well enough. Dimitri's aid had for years helped him bear it, and more recently helped him, bit by bit, to lay it down, even as the burdens of official kingship took their toll. Even a king could only do so much when the task was repairing a nation from six years of war. Dedue knew that, as well, but Dimitri blamed himself for every day the reconstruction took, for every meeting spent arguing with councillors, merchants, and minor nobility about his planned reforms, for the bare fact that even the smallest changes took _time_ when he dreamed of a world where they'd already been made.

"I will not raise a hand to you," Dedue said, soft as an aged oak. It might have been redundant, but it steadied him to say it, to make that certainty known. "I will not cause you pain, not even if you ask me for it. I will not speak to you unkindly. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or unhappy, you will let me know. If you can accept that, then I … can try."

Dimitri grinned, flashing a sliver of chipped tooth. “Don’t sell yourself short, my love. You’re quite good at bossing me around when it’s for my own good.”

Dedue choked, but he rallied, and covered it with a cough and a frown. “And you are quite impertinent for someone who’s asked to take my orders,” he said, batting Dimitri beneath his chin.

“As I recall, you haven’t given me any orders yet.”

“Hm. Then start by undressing.”

“Certainly, my lord,” Dimitri said, with a playful half-bow — goddess of love save him, it was only a joke, but it shot straight to Dedue’s cock in a manner he wasn’t sure he liked.

He _definitely_ liked watching the shift of Dimitri's muscles as he unbuttoned his collar and pulled his shirt over his head. Dimitri paused with his fingers tangled in the laces of his trousers.

"Are you going to … ?"

"Perhaps," Dedue said. He inclined his head. "I would rather watch you."

"Well then," said Dimitri, flushing pink. He unlaced his trousers, rose up on his knees to slip them and his underthings past his hips, then shuffled back onto his rear to kick free of them. “How’s that?”

“Much better.”

He truly was a handsome man, scars and all: broad-shouldered and long-limbed, with sharp features and a strong jaw, even if light hair and eyes on his pale skin made him look a bit bleached. Dark gold hair covered his chest and trailed down his belly, which had filled out even in the few short months since the end of the war, softening his painfully stark muscles and the ridges of his bones. 

Dimitri tucked his legs beneath him. He rubbed the side of his neck, pushing his loose hair back over his shoulder as he shifted on his heels. “ … Are you just going to look?”

“I’ll do as I like," Dedue said. "I thought that was the point.”

Dimitri's flush deepened. “If you just want me to sit here, I can do that, but I can’t imagine it’d remain interesting for long.”

Dedue tipped Dimitri’s chin up, then trailed his fingertip down Dimitri’s throat, watching him shiver. "You are lovely," he murmured. "I wish to take my time."

Dimitri’s tongue flicked across his lower lip. His throat bobbed, and his pupil flared wide as Dedue’s fingertip dipped into the hollow between his clavicles. For all Dedue had spoken of patience, it was a bit much to resist — he kissed Dimitri as his lips parted, slipped his tongue into his mouth, and bore him down to the mattress, straddling his hips. Dimitri sighed, arched his back and squirmed, when Dedue ran a hand down his side. When he tugged at the hem of Dedue's shirt upward, Dedue pulled away and planted his hand on the center of Dimitri's chest. 

“If you want me to take charge, you must be patient,” he said. “Would a more tactile reminder help?”

“By which you mean … ?”

Dedue bit his tongue until his pulse settled. “You mentioned tying your hands.”

“Oh!” Dimitri's eye snapped wide. “I didn’t think you’d want to … yes, very much,” he added, as Dedue opened his mouth. "Please."

If he wanted it … well, they didn't have anything within reach. Dedue guided Dimitri's hands above his head and held them there, kneeling over him, one hand on his crossed wrists. "Don't move," he told Dimitri as firmly as he could bear to. Dimitri nodded, wide-eyed. True to his word, he did not move an inch when Dedue released him … goddess of love. Dimitri licked his lips, cheeks flushed, hair spilling across the sheets, cock already half-hard — laid out like a banquet just for him.

Dedue had a task with which to distract himself, though, so he left Dimitri on the bed and went to find something suitable for binding.

It took longer than he'd hoped — maybe that was just his nerves, dragging every thudding heartbeat on interminably. He wanted something soft, but sturdy enough to hold a knot without risk of slippage, so it was some time before he returned to their bedroom with a length of gold sash-cord from their drapes. 

Dimitri still had not moved: stretched out on his back, wrists crossed above his head. His eyes had drifted shut, so Dedue had a moment to recover from the jolt of — pride, of power, that Dimitri had taken his command to heart. He padded across the floor, quiet as a cat, to stand beside their bed. Dimitri's eye flickered beneath its lid, but did not open. Likely he'd no way to tell Dedue's arrival from any ambient shift of air.

Oh, he was _beautiful_ , so much so Dedue bit his lip to bear it — unaware of Dedue's attention, his throat and belly bare and vulnerable. Even his knees tilted apart just so, revealing his soft inner thighs. Such trust, simply because Dedue had asked it of him. Dedue could announce himself by touching him, by running his palm up Dimitri's belly or the inside of his thigh, or even cupping his throat as if to pin him — not that. Not any of it. Dimitri would startle and thrash at an unexpected touch, perhaps even lash out. Dedue could forgo indulging that impulse at risk of ruining the evening.

" … Dimitri," he said, hushed. Dimitri's eye snapped open, but his face brightened as his gaze landed on Dedue.

"There you are! I'm afraid I drifted off a bit."

"That's alright. I didn't imagine that would take so long." Dedue sat on the edge of the bed; his gaze dropped to the cord in his hands. "You're sure about this."

"As sure as I have ever been. Anyway — " Dimitri flexed his hands — "I could snap anything you put on me. It's the principle of the thing."

That was true enough, Dedue supposed. Dimitri had broken far sturdier things than a bit of drape-cord without even meaning to. "Very well."

He still hesitated when he looped the cord around Dimitri’s wrists, more for his own benefit than Dimitri’s — his pulse lurched, and he had to settle it before he could close and tighten the knot. He slipped his fingers beneath the cord, and found it perhaps too loose to be effective; then again, as Dimitri said, it was the principle of the thing. The gold shimmered attractively against Dimitri’s skin, and enough cord remained that the tasseled tails provided a handhold, if Dedue wanted. “Is that comfortable?”

Dimitri tugged at the cord, testing its tension. “You could go a bit tighter, you know.”

“I thought I was in charge.”

“Ah, my mistake, my lord Molinaro.” Dimitri wiggled his eyebrows and flashed his crooked grin, but Dedue’s breath caught despite himself. Dizzy in the rush of it, he bent down and kissed Dimitri. One hand tangled in the cord, trapping Dimitri’s hands above his head. He nipped at Dimitri's lip, and slipped his tongue into his mouth when it opened for him, swallowing Dimitri's muted moan. Dimitri sighed and squirmed — Dedue shifted one clothed thigh between Dimitri's, relieving some of the ache in his own cock. Dimitri's hips twitched, straining against him, but pinned beneath Dedue's weight he could do little to find the friction he needed.

Now there was a thought. 

How long could Dedue keep this going? How long could he keep Dimitri squirming, whining softly beneath his hands, his mouth, teasing him where Dedue knew he most wanted it? How much sound could he wring from Dimitri’s chest?

Could he make Dimitri beg?

Dedue didn’t often think of Dimitri’s title when they were alone together. He didn’t think much of Dimitri’s title at all, except to the extent that circumstance demanded. All the same, there was a reality to it, a weight to the Blaiddyd name Dimitri bore. To imagine the king of Faerghus _begging_ for his touch — it stirred Dedue’s blood near to boiling. 

He sat back, breaking their kiss. Dimitri strained up after him, but Dedue's grip on his bound wrists held him down. "What … ?"

"Ssh," Dedue said gently. He pressed his thumb to Dimitri's lips. "I promised to take care of you. Trust me to do so."

Dimitri nodded, his eye wide, his pupil dark against the blue. Acting on a rare impulse, Dedue pushed his thumb into Dimitri's mouth, gently pressing down his tongue.

"Do you like that?" Dedue murmured. "I know you like to use your mouth. You're quite good with it."

"Mmh," Dimitri moaned. His panting breaths surged hot and wet against Dedue's hand as he dragged his thumb over Dimitri's molars. He closed his lips around Dedue's thumb, sucking the digit deeper into his mouth while he rubbed his tongue against the pad — Dedue's breath hitched.

Dimitri took two more fingers into his mouth eagerly, letting Dedue gently pry open his jaw and run his fingers over his teeth. He whined, eyelids fluttering, as Dedue pressed up on his chipped incisor and just-slightly-too-sharp canines, but he closed his mouth delicately — his teeth barely brushed Dedue’s knuckles as he sucked Dedue’s fingers deeper into his mouth, moaning softly around Dedue’s hand. His eyes glazed, his lips flushed pink and wet with spit, panting with his arms stretched above his head and his cock hard against his belly.

A damp patch had formed on the front of Dedue’s trousers. He released Dimitri's wrists to palm at it, shutting his eyes as his hips bucked against his hand. “Dimitri,” he stuttered at the jolt of pleasure, of relief. “Ah — oh, Dimitri — ” 

"Nghk — mmh — " Dimitri squirmed, turning his head against Dedue's hand. When Dedue realized what he meant, he withdrew his fingers, letting Dimitri swallow and clear his throat. "Ca — can I?" Dimitri rasped. His gaze flicked down. “Put my mouth on you?”

Dedue's throat tightened. "Would you like that?"

“Yes, _please_.”

Dedue’s heart would crack one of his ribs if it pounded any harder. "Then … " Gods' blood, he would have to figure out the logistics of doing this with Dimitri's hands tied, wouldn't he? Dimitri was certainly in no state to calculate human geometry, not that Dedue was much better off. He worked his tongue to call some moisture back into his mouth. “Get off the bed,” he said, “and on y — your knees.”

Dimitri’s eye went wide. His pupil went wider, threatening to eclipse the blue altogether. “Yes, s-sir,” he panted. The corner of his mouth quirked up, as if by reflex. There wasn’t nearly as much of a joke in his voice as Dedue had expected, and Dedue could not in any way decipher how he felt about that.

Well. He knew precisely what he felt. He felt that, right now, he wanted Dimitri's mouth between his legs more than he wanted anything else in the world. He _doubted_ why he enjoyed this — why he liked to watch Dimitri squirm and whine; why he liked Dimitri calling him _lord_ and _sir_ in that breathy, needy voice; why the sight of Dimitri, naked, hands bound, as he sank to his knees between Dedue’s clothed, open thighs stirred heat in his belly that he could not name or explain.

"Stop," he said, thinking instead of what he _could_ put name to, like how Dimitri's knees might feel in the morning. He leaned back to retrieve a pillow and pass it down to Dimitri. "Kneel on that."

Dimitri huffed and rolled his eyes. Dedue gave him a sharp look, and he shuffled onto the pillow. “Fine.”

“You asked me to command you,” Dedue said. He threaded his fingers into Dimitri’s hair, rubbing at that spot behind his ear. Dimitri sagged and leaned his cheek against Dedue’s knee, practically purring.

“M-hm,” he sighed. He shifted on his heels, and his breath hitched up into a whine. Dedue tugged his head back — Dimitri had begun rubbing at his cock, almost instinctively by the look of it. He moaned when Dedue's grip tightened in his hair.

"Stop," Dedue said. Dimitri froze. “Give me your hands.”

Dimitri offered his hands up — gods below and above, like a supplicant before a saint. Power, strength, coursed through Dedue like heat through copper. He hooked two fingers into the cord and pulled Dimitri's hands higher still, so he could rest his elbows on Dedue's thighs if he needed, but certainly not touch himself.

"Please," Dimitri whined, his voice ragged at the edges. "Let me touch you."

Dedue hummed. He unlaced his trousers and pushed them down along with his underthings — just the slight friction as he shuffled his clothing past his hips had him shuddering. He hissed through his teeth at the first brush of cool air against his aching cock. Dimitri shifted forward; Dedue tugged him back, fingers tangled in his hair. “Wait for my command.”

Dimitri’s chest heaved. He whimpered as his pink tongue flicked over his lower lip, but he gazed up at Dedue with such love he shone with it, such bottomless adoration gleaming around his lashes that Dedue could drown. In that moment, Dedue could have shattered a mountain, silenced a blizzard, raised towering pines from burnt ash. His gut lurched with vertigo as his heart soared.

Let it — Dedue kicked his trousers and underthings aside. “ _Now_ you may touch me. Carefully.”

He released Dimitri, though he left his hand in place, stroking gently at Dimitri's temple (and ready to pull back if Dimitri moved too quickly). Dimitri quivered with the effort of restraining himself, but he leaned in slowly, pressed kisses to Dedue's thighs and belly before taking him into his mouth.

Dimitri wasted little time in swallowing Dedue to the hilt — Dedue gasped and sank back, eyes shut on a burst of white stars. His legs clenched around Dimitri's ribs, dragging him closer; Dimitri choked, but made no effort to pull away, and Dedue was in no state to push him back. Dimitri dragged the broad flat of his tongue against the underside of Dedue's cock, moaned around him when Dedue's grip tightened in his hair; rode Dedue's bucking into his mouth without complaint, though in the part of him still aware of such things Dedue heard him gag on a more desperate thrust.

Dedue's voice broke out of him in a ragged cry as he came, on a thrust so hard he lifted his hips from the bed. He slumped back against the mattress, chest heaving; he had to remember to disentangle his hands from Dimitri's hair so he could pull away. Dimly, he felt Dimitri lapping at his thighs, cleaning up any of the come that had escaped his mouth.

"You don't — have to do that," Dedue rasped, still catching his breath.

Dimitri paused just long enough to say, "I want to," before returning to his work. When he'd finished, he leaned his cheek against Dedue's thigh. "Was I good?"

"You were wonderful," Dedue sighed. He set his hand on Dimitri's hair, petting softly. Dimitri hummed and turned his nose against Dedue's thigh, for all the world like a — like a loyal hound, quiet and content at his master's feet. Dedue _loved_ him.

Something scratched in that warm and pleasant fog — something he'd forgotten, or left undone … Dimitri shivered, a whimper breaking into his soft breathing. "Please," he whispered, hoarse and trembling. "Please, I need … "

Damn it. Dedue levered himself upright, shaking off the haze. Dimitri blinked up at him, teeth worrying his flushed and swollen lip, hair stuck disheveled to his sweaty brow. Tears clung to his lower lashes, his eye glassy and dazed — ice pierced Dedue's heart. Dimitri's tears didn't always mean anything bad, but in this uncharted territory they frightened him nonetheless. "Are you alright?"

Dimitri nodded. "I l-love you," he croaked, his cheek still pressed against Dedue's thigh. He'd kept his wrists crossed behind his neck, though his hands flexed and tensed in silent desperation.

Dedue ran his fingers through Dimitri's hair, smoothing some of the straggling strands from his brow and, hopefully, soothing where he'd pulled. Dimitri sighed. His eye fluttered shut.

"'m yours," he mumbled, voice breaking. "Heart, mind, and body. P- _please_ … "

Satisfaction nestled like a firebird in Dedue's belly. He cupped Dimitri's chin in his hand, coaxing Dimitri to look at him. "You are," he murmured. "Mine. My Mitya, my husband, my lion. My king."

"Yours," Dimitri breathed, like an oath, like a prayer, his eye shining with love and unshed tears.

Oh, the _relief_ of saying it properly. In public he toyed with the ambiguity, letting Fódlan's nobles think what they would: 'my king', an expression of subservience, of fealty. In private, in this moment, with Dimitri bound and kneeling after taking Dedue's cock down his throat, there could be no doubt: _You, king of lions, are mine_.

Dedue stroked his thumb over Dimitri's cheek. Dimitri whimpered, leaning into the touch. " … you are waiting for my permission," Dedue said, as it finally occurred to him.

Trembling, Dimitri nodded.

"How long would you wait?" Dedue murmured. His heart pounded in his chest, and his hand shook when he tucked Dimitri's hair behind his ear. "How long would you kneel for me? Would you beg for it, my king?"

"Ye-es — please — "

A thought clicked into place. Dedue threaded his fingers back into Dimitri's hair, smoothing his thumb across Dimitri's temple. "You've done very well. Have you earned your pleasure?"

"Nnh," Dimitri whined. "P- _please_ , Dedue — "

"Tell me, Dimitri, do you deserve it?"

"N-no, but — but I — _ah!_ "

Dedue's hand tightened in Dimitri’s hair, tugging his head back. He gripped Dimitri's chin firmly, leaving him no choice but to look up. "I just said you've done well. You truly wish to please me, don't you?"

"Yes," Dimitri panted. He blinked, eyes wide, lashes gleaming. "Y-yes — all I want — all I've ever wanted — ”

“And you have,” Dedue said gently. “And you do. You've brought me pleasure enough for this night and many more, to keep me warm the next time work demands we part. You've been patient in waiting for your own. Now, tell me: _do you deserve it?_ ”

Dimitri bit his lip and shut his eyes. A tear escaped his blind eye and trailed down his cheek. “Y — yes?”

“The question was for you, not me.”

“Yes,” Dimitri rasped, trembling in Dedue’s hands. "I deserve it."

“What do you deserve?”

“ _Dedue_ ,” Dimitri whined, squirming. Dedue held him fast, pinning him with a look until his gaze darted aside. Another tear slipped from his blind eye. “ … t-to love you,” he whispered, shaking so Dedue worried he might come apart at the seams. “To be loved by you.”

“Yes,” Dedue said fondly. He kissed Dimitri’s brow. “You do. Now take your pleasure, however you would like."

Dimitri blinked up at him. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then ran his tongue across his teeth. "May I … touch you?"

"You may." Dedue softened as he smoothed Dimitri's hair back. He leaned down to loosen the binding on Dimitri's hands, and seized the chance to kiss the top of Dimitri's head. "You have earned it."

Dimitri released a breath, shuddering with a restrained sob. He stretched his arms above his head, then settled his hands on Dedue’s knees. His hands slid up Dedue’s thighs and to his hips as he kissed his way up Dedue’s belly, to the scar that split Dedue’s chest. He got to his feet (creakily, Dedue noticed, with an inward wince) and wrapped his arms around Dedue’s ribs, burying his face against Dedue’s neck.

Even though Dedue could feel Dimitri’s cock trapped between their bellies, he remained there for a long moment, still but for the shiver when Dedue embraced him back.

“I love you,” he mumbled, muffled in Dedue’s shoulder.

“I know,” Dedue murmured. “I love you, too.”

Dimitri’s breath hitched. He kissed Dedue’s neck, then leaned forward, laying Dedue back on the mattress with unfaltering gentleness. He ran a hand over Dedue’s hair with bright-eyed, feverish delicacy. “Thighs," he asked, “may I?”

"You don't have to ask," Dedue said. Dimitri blinked at him — for a moment Dedue wished he'd said anything else, as Dimitri looked honestly shaken.

"I _want_ to," he said. "May I?"

"You may." Dimitri nodded. He stepped back so he could slip his arm beneath Dedue's knees, and lift Dedue's ankles onto his shoulder. "Go ahead," Dedue murmured, before Dimitri could hesitate.

Dimitri squeezed his eyes shut as he thrust between Dedue's thighs — slowly, at first, but quickly losing rhythm, gasping as his breath turned ragged. Panting through his nose, teeth sunk into his lip, clutching at Dedue's calves like a man drowning — Dedue slipped a hand to his own cock, aching at the sight of him.

"Love you," Dimitri stuttered, pressing his face to Dedue's calf. "Love you, I love you, I — oh, S-saints, Dedue, _Dedue — !_ "

He'd waited so long, he needed little encouragement to spill himself over Dedue's thighs and belly. Before long, Dedue followed him, hips stuttering with a hoarse cry.

Distantly, he registered Dimitri letting his legs down. Dimitri lapped at his softening cock and his belly, cleaning up the mess they'd both made. He took Dedue's hand in both of his, cleaning his palm and fingers with his tongue. When he'd finished, he crawled up and curled around Dedue's side, pulling Dedue's head onto his chest, his knees tucked up against Dedue's ribs. "Love you," Dimitri mumbled into his hair. "I love you. I love you."

"I know," Dedue said. He rolled onto his side to wrap his arms around Dimitri's ribs. "I know."

The longer they lay like that, the more Dedue began to think. The more he thought, the less he liked. 

When Dimitri kissed the part of his hair and slipped from his arms, Dedue let him go.

He wrapped his arms around himself, curled up on their bed, aware but not quite understanding the rustle of cloth and the rush of running water until Dimitri returned and nudged him onto his back. Dedue opened his eyes to a warm washcloth cleaning the sweat from his shoulders, and the residual spit and spend from his thighs and belly.

"You don't have to," he protested weakly. Dimitri shushed him, smoothing a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

"I don't. I want to."

Cold and adrift, Dedue sighed. "Alright."

He could hardly feel cold for long when Dimitri pulled their quilt up and nestled back against him, tangling their legs together and threading his fingers into Dedue's hair. "Thank you," he whispered against the top of Dedue's head.

" … I liked it," Dedue said softly.

"I'm glad — "

"That is the problem," Dedue said. His speech accelerated, clipped, growing frantic. "I liked commanding you. I felt _powerful_ when you _obeyed_ me. What sort of lover — ” 

"Ssh," Dimitri murmured into his hair. "It's nice to feel in control. I should know. My kingship allows it, more often than not … any fool can hold power. What matters is how one uses it. I gave you power over me, and you, my dearest, used it to make me say that I _deserve to be loved_."

"I could have … "

"You didn't." Dimitri's chuckle ruffled Dedue's hair. "Admit it, love, you liked putting me on my knees."

"Ngk," Dedue said. Strangled, barely above a whisper, he admitted, " … I did."

"And I'm _glad_ that you did. I know this wasn't easy for you, but you rose to the challenge magnificently. Thank you for indulging me." Dimitri settled against him, breathing slow and soft, one leg hooked over Dedue's hips. "I'd happily do it again sometime, if you'd like."

Dedue shut his eyes and buried his face in Dimitri's broad, warm chest. The hot, steady thump of his husband's heart steadied him in turn. Dimitri's fingers carded through his hair; his thumb rasped over Dedue's shaven temple. Their quilt draped over Dimitri's shoulder and over Dedue's cheek, leaving him a comfortable, dark shelter in his husband's arms.

That power frightened him less, knowing that he could put it down — that it was an experiment, a game, a relief from the order of their daily lives. That he could have this warm and quiet place, soft and protected, as well as the wide sky and the mountain's peak and the world spread out beneath him.

"I'd like that," he murmured against Dimitri's chest. "I'd like that very much."


End file.
